


take me home (where i belong)

by BittersweetEnvy



Category: Sander Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: 5+1 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Logic | Logan Sanders - Freeform, Morality | Patton Sanders - Freeform, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-03-30 07:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13946625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BittersweetEnvy/pseuds/BittersweetEnvy
Summary: the four times the group needed Virgil's help and the one time he received it.





	1. Logan

**Author's Note:**

> unbeta'd, enjoy.

**gra•tu•i•tous**  
ɡrəˈt(y)o͞oədəs/  
_adjective_  
uncalled for; lacking good reason; unwarranted.

* * *

 

     Despite being an intellectual and a Logophile, upon hearing the word "feelings" made Logan want to, for lack of a better explanation, have a debate with Patton.

Logan deemed feelings were illogical and unnecessary a long time ago. The passion for theatre and art that Thomas or Roman had was completely unfathomable to him, and Patton's dad jokes were also somewhat troublesome. It wasn't as if the others were that obnoxious, (more like infuriating,) but he couldn't sympathize with any of the other two sides, especially Thomas. It was Logan's job to assist him, not the other way around.

That led him to his current dilemma. He was " _feeling_ " stress. When he first realized that he had acquired this, it was similar to the discovery of stress in a normal person,  _a normal human_ ; an obsessive reactionary response. He was over-thinking. Something was definitely and completely wrong.

He supposed it led him to one obvious conclusion; consult the expert. The most efficient way to resolve his situation: Virgil.

Whenever he summoned the darker side he always made a point of asking for permission first. He wasn't a savage, and he respected Anxiety, probably the most if he was being honest. He would figuratively knock on his door, sending a message to ask if the other would consult with himself in his space. Virgil always hated having the others in his room, for good reason, so Logan left it out of the question.

His heightened stress disturbed his room as well. It was still quite neat, like it always was, but there was now some underlying mess. Askew paper's and unempty bins hid away like they didn't exist, and just thinking about it made Logan flinch. He needed to call Virgil before things got more complicated then they should be.

Logan pushed up his glasses with his fore finger. "Virgil? I acquire your assistance."

It took a few moments, and he presumed Anxiety was touching up his eye-shadow or turning off his music before appearing suddenly on Logan's desk chair. He didn't jump when he glanced at Virgil, who blew at his hair as he slouched in the wooden seat. They stared at each other for a silent pause, and Virgil's face contorted into confusion.

"I figured I was going to be called by Princey for more insight on how much he doesn't like me."

"It would seem you are incorrect," Logan replied. "I summoned you because I am having a problem that you may be able to assist me with."

Virgil almost visible flinched at the statement. "Wait- seriously? You need my help?"

"That is what I said, isn't it?"

The darker side shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of what he was being asked. Despite having no facts or information on feelings, Logan seemed very good at identifying them. It was simple enough to assess the typical feelings that the others had, and Virgil's were the easiest to witness because of his nature. He adjusted his glasses and took in Virgil's expression as he spoke.

"You couldn't have gone to anyone else?" Virgil grunted, threading his fingers through his bangs. "I don't know why you want to talk to me."

Logan sighed. "I don't believe the other's will be able to aid me in this situation, and consulting with you would be the most efficient way to resolve my issue."

Virgil looked skeptical, and maybe the tiniest bit of concern under his expression. He sighed heavily. "Fine, whatever. What do you want?"

He nodded in understanding, smoothing his tie with his thumb and clearing his throat. "Well, I suppose it began with the stress."

Virgil's face blanked, almost comically. "What?"

"Stress? I am almost sure you're familiar with it."

The other side rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "No, you- I mean yes, obviously-" Virgil groaned and threw his hand over his face. "You're clueless. I meant you have stress?  _You?_ "

Logan hesitated, sighing. "Yes, it is a somewhat new... occurrence."

"Yeah, more like the end of the world," he snorted, adding with a mocking smirk, "Logic having feelings? I must be imagining things."

Logan didn't laugh, but he noticed that Virgil saw his amusement. He shouldn't be encouraging that though, he really did want to solve this problem. He shook off the comments and knocked his glasses back up more. "I would appreciate your input on the matter."

"I'm not that good with feelings either, Logan." Virgil replied.

"But you are informed on this," he responded. "Objectively, then."

"Okay." Virgil exhaled sharply. "Stress isn't just a feeling you get without a reason. Something had to cause it." he said. "So what would've caused your stress?"

What indeed. It made Logan infuriated that he didn't have this information, that he couldn't quite figure out the cause of the effect. There were so many conclusions he could arrive at. Perhaps it was Roman and Patton? It didn't appear that way, Logan never had problems with them before, why would they arise now? Maybe it was his researching for the videos? No, it wasn't that either, he enjoyed researching those things-

"Logan."

He looked up at Virgil sharply. "You're biting your nails."

Oh. He glanced down at his fingers, noticing that his thumb's nail was gone down the the base. He stared at it for a second before sitting up straight in his seat and fixing himself.

"Apologies," He whispered softly, "I suppose I need your help more than I presumed."

Virgil was silent for a few moments. "You said all of that aloud, Logan. Can I ask you something?"

He nodded and tried not to allow his body to fidget. "Of course."

"What are you feeling?"

Logan almost laughed. In fact he believed he did, after noticing Virgil's surprised expression. He coughed to clear his throat. That's the question he has to answer? "I don't know how this will contribute to our conversation. I have already told you-"

"For gods sake Logan, answer the damn question. " Virgil groaned, "Seriously, it's like I'm your psychiatrist."

Logan went to deny the statement, but the other glared at him, so he closed his mouth, pursing his lips. "Alright, fine. I am not satisfactory."

Virgil raised an eyebrow.

He huffed. "I am," uhg, "'feeling,' I suppose, more...  _concerned_. Then usual."

The brooding side looked at Logan silently for him to continue.

"Yes. I am just... concerned. I cannot figure out what is causing this. I went through all probable situations, however I am still like this. I have no clues to what-"

"It's Thomas."

Logan quirked his head. "How do you know without sufficient evidence?"

Virgil smirked. "Oh the evidence is clear, buddy. The only other thing that this could be is Thomas."

Logan opened his mouth, but Virgil cut him off. "Sure, whatever, I can elaborate. If its not Roman or Patton, its him. You are proud of him when he accomplishes a goal you set, but you get nervous when things don't go as planned. I'm just guessing here, but I think you say its your fault when he doesn't get though the things you told him to do that day. I think your stress comes from your guilt."

Logan opened and closed his mouth several times to say something, but it was like he didn't have an answer. Now that he thought about it, yes, Virgil was correct. Thomas was the person he did all of his research for, and he was responsible for his decisions. Perhaps he was pushing himself too hard? He faced Virgil silently.

"I believe your diagnosis is satisfactory. I am surprised, however. You are usually swaying the others with overdramatic statements, not reasoning."

Virgil scoffed and messed with his hair. "Yeah, well. It's easier to reason when you can empathize."

Oh, then that was the case. "Alright. Then I suppose I should thank you. Your appearance today assisted me, so I appreciate it."

Logan looked straight at Virgil, who turned the tiniest bit pink before sighing and rolling his eyes. "Sure, whatever." he said. "I'm leaving now."

Logan grinned. "Until next time."

He heard a huff and then Virgil was gone.


	2. Patton

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a mild anxiety attack. starts at "Virgil hissed," and ends at "Patton exhaled in relief, smiling."

**ju•bi•lant**  
ˈjo͞obələnt/  
 _adjective_  
feeling or expressing great happiness and triumph.

* * *

 

 

      When Patton woke up in the morning, he would usually get Logan's help to make breakfast, but today he was met with an empty kitchen. His morning grin slipped off a bit before he called out to him.

"Looogan?" he sung cheerfully, "Did you sleep in?"

As if on queue, the other appeared beside him, knocking up his glasses and tightening his neck tie. Logan sighed. "Of course not, I wake up at six thirty every morning. Apologies, Thomas needed assistance from Roman and myself. Was there something you acquired me for?"

Patton giggled and shook his head. "I guess not, unless you didn't eat the most important meal of the day!"

"I always make sure to sustain myself." he replied.

Patton's grin wavered. "Gotcha!"

"If that is all, I will return to Thomas' aid. He tells me you are invited to join us at anytime." Logan said, disappearing without a second's notice.

Patton sighed and walked further into the kitchen and pressed the button to turn on the drink machine. "Breakfast," he muttered, scanning the shelves for something to make. He noticed a colorful box hidden away on top of Thomas' fridge and squealed.

He dug threw the cereal boxes before grabbing the precious red box. "Lucky Charms!" Patton exclaimed, jumping in excitement.

He grabbed two bowls and two spoons and set them across from each other on the table. He hummed a peppy tune as he opened the fridge and pulled out the milk. He set them on the table and smiled.

"Virge, kiddo? Wanna get up? I need a favor!~" He giggled quietly and covered his mouth to muffle it.

Patton usually never tried to wake Virgil up in the morning, because he knew that the other hated waking up early, but he glanced at the clock, which read 11 am. A perfect time to have breakfast with one of his favorite people!

Virgil appeared behind Patton, turning to open the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He turned back around, his headphones hanging loosely around his neck. He glanced at Patton, noticing his extremely happy expression. "Is there I dog somewhere around I don't know about?" he joked.

Patton almost screamed, jumping and looking around in excitement. "There's a puppy and you didn't tell me about it?!"

Virgil shook his hands frantically. "It's just an expression! I meant, uh, you look really happy. Or, happier than normal, I guess."

Patton lit up like he forgot something. "Right! My favor!"

Virgil fidgeted against the fridge. "What did you need?"

"Look!" The moral side squealed, gesturing to the cereal on the table, "Thomas had a box of Lucky Charms left!"

"Right. And what you want is...?"

"I wanna have breakfast with you Virge!" he exclaimed.

Virgil sighed and shook his head. "Patton, I don't really... eat sweet stuff." he replied, sounding guilty.

Patton smiled and laughed. "I knew that, kiddo! I have a plan." he pointed to a seat. "Sit, c'mon!"

The darker side sat hesitantly, tugging as his hoodie sleeves nervously. He glanced at Patton's proud face before flushing and glancing away. He watched the moral side pour himself a bowl of Lucky Charms before looking back up at Virgil, smiling before focusing back on the cereal. He gently started picking the marshmallow pieces and putting them in another bowl. Virgil's face instantly dropped.

"Pat, you don't have to do that for me, really-" he said nervously his wooden chair squeaking as he fidgeted nervously.

Patton only grinned as he continued to separate the pieces. "Don't worry, kiddo, I guess you could say I'm pretty _mallow_ about it."

Virgil let out a chuckle into his palm, smiling and patting at his hair. "Good one."

" _One_? Silly, I got a whole bowl of them!" Patton drummed his fingers against the table.

They looked at each other before bursting into giggles. Patton shook with laughter as he tried to unscrew the milk cap, and took a few deep breaths the calm himself. Virgil toyed with his hoodie strings as he waited for him to finish pouring. Patton handed his bowl and the milk back and shoved his own sweet cereal into his mouth.

Patton hummed in delight. "Magically delicious," he murmured.

The darker side smiled and shook his head. He ate a spoonful of his own cereal before grabbing his bowl and taking it to the counter.

"I'm making hot cocoa," he said, "do you want some?"

Patton gasped. "Extra marshmallow?"

Virgil laughed. "On it."

He noticed the machine was already on, so Virgil opened the cupboard and grabbed two mugs. He heated the water and poured it into the cups and opened the box of cocoa mix. He took his tablespoon, measuring two scoops each for both and stirring them. He grabbed Patton's extra marshmallows and poured them in his mug. The corner's of Virgil's mouth turned up a bit as he glanced at the cocoa. Without thinking, he grabbed Patton's mug by the base as it scorched the palm of his hand.

"Shit!" he swore, instinctively letting go of the drink, watching it crash, spill, and break into a million pieces on the kitchen floor.

Patton immediately choked on his own spoon, quickly jumping from his chair and over the mess to the other sides' aid.

"Virgil!" he exclaimed, gently touching the back of his injured hand, ''Are you alright?! You burned your hand?"

Virgil hissed, his hand pink and shaking violently. He leaned into Patton, who led him the the sink. He turned on the cold water and slowly put his palm under the stream. Virgil heard Patton talking to him, but it all sounded fuzzy. He glanced at the tile floor covered in cocoa, and his cheeks became wet as he started crying.

Patton rubbed his back as he wet a towel and pressed it gently against his hand, turning off the faucet. He felt Patton kiss his forehead and cradle his injured hand in his arm.

"Virgil, are you still in pain?" He found himself unable to answer, his throat constricting. He shook his head.

Patton gently touched the back of his neck. "C'mon kiddo, you can talk to me."

It took everything in Virgil's willpower to actually open his mouth to talk, and even then his voice was garbled and and shaking.

"I broke- I broke your fa-avorite m-mug..." he sobbed. "I r-uin ev'rthing.."

Patton felt the tears well up in his eyes. "Virge, we all make mistakes. It's not your fault, it's okay."

Patton held Virgil on the kitchen floor next to the shattered mess for a while until Virgil's breathing calmed. Patton exhaled in relief, smiling.

"Wanna hear a joke? I'm sure it will _crack_ you up." His smile grew into a grin when he watches the other laugh and wipe his eyes with his hoodie sleeve's.

"I'm glad you're feeling better, Virge. Seeing you hurt _breaks_ my heart."

Virgil tried to muffle his laugh unsuccessfully. He smiled and rolled his eyes with a fake huff. He stood with Patton's help, holding the towel over his hurt palm and messing with his bangs nervously. "Thanks dad."

Patton grinned ear to ear, clasping his hands together and giggling. Virgil flushed. "Or whatever." he added.

The pair stood for a moment, and Virgil gestured to the mess on the floor. "So... leave it for Logan?" he said, smirking.

Patton laughed. "I'm responsible enough, kiddo! Now go take a rest, I'll make us more cocoa."

Virgil nodded as he blinked out of the kitchen. Patton smiled as he leaned down to pick up the pieces of the broken mug carefully.

He truly did love his dark son.


End file.
